


A cup of tea and friendly advice

by Hashilavalamp



Category: Naruto
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Drama, Multi, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-28
Updated: 2014-03-28
Packaged: 2018-01-17 08:32:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1380946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hashilavalamp/pseuds/Hashilavalamp
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Madara and Mito have an oh so friendly chat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A cup of tea and friendly advice

This was no meeting between enemies.

Her currently company, if he were aware of this thought fleetingly appearing in her flow of consciousness, would agree. Anyone would, really, very obviously they were two acquaintances engaged in light conversation and enjoying a cup of tea together on the porch in the late afternoon.

Was it her who suggested this, or was it him? She could not quite recall, this man had an overwhelming and tumultuous quality about him and it left her almost dazed at times. Most certainly he knew of this effect he had on people and knew how to take advantage of it.  
While it would be no source of shame or embarrassment for him to be seen with her, it would bother him if anyone believed he had called for this meeting.

Pathetic, she thought as she raised the delicate cup to her lips, taking a small sip of the bitter liquid.

His black hair was as unruly as ever, a true rat’s nest and she wondered whether one would find twigs and leaves entangled in it if somebody dared to try tame this mane. She gently tilted her head to the side, eyes trained on him. It may be impolite to stare, though he was inviting her to do so. What a dramatic man. These days he paraded his Sharingan from dusk till dawn, what for? To make the fools bow before him in fear of being pierced by the blood-soaked gaze?  Or did he seek to feed the rumors?

Judging by his very sick appearance though, she concluded that he tried to hide his illness in plain sight. If he strode through the streets as if he weren’t a pariah but the daimyo, who would be able to look his way, who would be brave enough to lift their face and look into a demon’s eyes?

That had to be his reasoning.

Oh yes, this fit him like the gloves swallowing his hands, she decided and almost allowed herself to smile.

With a soft clank she set down the cup before her, turning away from him to the left in favor of a much more pleasant sight; the sun was setting and to her, this time had something very soothing and relaxing about it. She would not have it spoiled for her.

“Tomorrow is the ceremony you said?” he inquired with a casual tone, as if he weren’t perfectly informed.

Disgruntled as she is, she responded with a confirmative dip of the head.

“I wonder, how does the Uzumaki princess feel about this?”

With a sigh, she faced him. He finally addressed the issue that brought them together in the first place, perhaps now their conversation would be less frustrating. Considering it was him, this was rather questionable.

“Are you concerned that I may be nervous? Because I can assure you I am quite looking forward to this event. I am well prepared.”

“Are you?” he asked without missing a beat, smirk still in place despite her subtle mockery.

“Indeed, I am” she says, keeping her voice even. And that’s when she made a mistake, the first of many. “In fact, my purpose for coming here was probably this ceremony” she let slip with a drop of bitter venom in her words.

Her breath threatened to hitch as she realized this, and his eyes widened marginally, showing that this faux pas did not escape his ever watchful gaze. Now he could strike, so she had to strike first.

“Why are you asking, I wonder? Are you concerned for me?” she quickly supplied, searching his face for any reaction to her jab, but there wasn’t one. His face might as well have been carved out of stone. She had to pry further.

“Mere curiosity, don’t worry. It would be a shame if you caused trouble tomorrow and publically shame your family and your future husband” he nonchalantly replied and for a moment it seemed as if his Sharingan flared a deeper red.  
“And it would be awful if I did that to him, no?” The words seemed to hit a nerve and he looked to be a tad startled. He underestimated her, clearly. Now she had him.

There is no hesitation though when he said “Of course. His union with the village must be perfect. Imagine it went wrong, what would our dreams have been for? For yours to ruin?”

Were this any other man, pity would’ve tugged away at her heart, but this was hardly a man anymore and even if she did take pity, he would not. She was no fool who counted on the goodness tucked away in some corner of his mind. Unlike the man who she would be wedded to by tomorrow.

Were this a man, she would’ve explained that it was never her intention to tear down the illusion he created for himself. She was but a victim of this scheme.

Instead, she raised her eyebrows.  
“The union with the village?” she echoed, though she had a good guess of what he meant by that.

“Isn’t that what it will be?” her retorted, and finally there was just that slight edge of strain to his smirk and his tone. “He will marry you, and that means he will marry the village. It was all arranged for the sake of the village.” The last words he almost spat out in contempt, and she ignored the pang of compassion in her.

She chose to make eye contact with that pathetic wreck of a man who frantically tried to hide all the little cracks in the rock, hoping that nobody would see. But he did not consider her, he didn’t foresee the observant Uzumaki princess who saw his faults.

“Do you believe he will never come to love me as a person?” she prodded at the festering wound.

He smiled. “You don’t even know your husband” he chided with that annoying air of superiority, “you will make for a poor wife. Hashirama does not love like that. What he loves is the village, his childish ideals and his people; he doesn’t have much space for more than that.”

Their tea had gotten cold and so had the air around them. A breeze picked up as if Mother Nature had noticed their turmoil. She was treading on very thin ice now, but she had already started walking and there was no going back and no stopping.

She steeled herself. “And you don’t think I can take up that last bit of space in his heart and claim it for myself?” she taunted as he shot her a dark glare and she was reminded to not directly meet his eye; Uchiha were a volatile folk and it may just happen that they fail to control their revered Sharingan.

 “I already took that bit” he clarified, a bit of pride entering his tone once again. “It’s a part of him that I have always possessed, even as just a little brat. I took it and it will never be returned to him.”

“Are you trying to assure me that, or yourself? That you own something so precious and tainted his body and soul and corrupted him through and through?”

And she broke through the ice.

It was nothing tangible, no verbal nor physical attack followed, but suddenly something heavy settled inside her chest, a sense of dread. Dread that he must’ve planted there, even though he is sitting there, rigid and with an aura so cold, it almost made her gasp as if somebody had poured freezing water over her head.

If only he raged and raved like the madman he is, screaming at her that _he owns that man’s heart, nobody else but him and nobody else will ever have it, at the very least an Uzumaki woman, because all that man will ever love will be black hair and Sharingan eyes and he is only letting her marry that man because it must be, for the sake of the godforsaken village_  
the village that this man puts before him  
that man who will never return his feelings with the same intensity

But he didn’t and it was highly unsettling, because she knew that he was thinking this.

He finally spoke. “I am giving you advice and you should appreciate it. I don’t help the likes of you out often.” Oh, should she be grateful now?  
“To be loved by him is hardly fulfilling. So be glad that you will enter this marriage with the knowledge that you will never have his love in the first place.” Why should she be glad? She had long accepted her fate as the sacrificial bride. She never expected love.

He was not done yet. “You are nothing but a pawn in a man’s world. Did your father not sell you off to our Hokage? That is all of your merit. A wife and a mother, that is what you will be, because that is what the village needs.” Something about the crazed smile on his face was foreboding, so it distracted her from the sting.

“And you will love him. Because there is no way you cannot, everyone loves him and worships him like he is the sun. You will love him and he will think he loves you too, but he doesn’t know what that really means, to love a person.  
So don’t believe his words, you foolish woman.”

His Sharingan had faded, receded into a void of dark gray.

“I never intended to be that foolish” she admitted, already seeing herself as the winner. “And you are mistaken. I know better, and I will not love him.”

And he laughed in her face; honestly, he could have slapped her in the face and she wouldn’t have been able to tell the difference.

“Well isn’t that glorious! You naïve little girl, who thought you are a good match for him, when all you are is a young child who knows nothing of how the world runs. You are a sheltered princess washed onto Fire’s shores and now you expect this land to play by the rules of the sea!”

Her knuckles turned a chalk white.

“I take back my words” he continues, “you don’t hold any merit at all. You don’t even respect yourself enough to put up a fight! You take everything given to you and whine and pout at your mirror image, lamenting how cruel this world is when you do nothing against it! Instead you put up such an embarrassing show of prestige and dignity.  
A girl like that wouldn’t ever be able to even hope to own the piece of him that I hold.”

He was still smirking.

“You think that I am pathetic, but have you ever looked at yourself?”

He left after that, and Mito called for servants to put away the cups of tea. She headed to bed, and her head and heart were heavy because tomorrow she would marry a man she didn’t love and who would never love her in return and she never questioned this before.

During the ceremony, she spotted him in the crowd and for a moment he looked at her with something akin to sympathy, but she couldn’t be sure because she quickly averted her gaze because she didn’t think she would be able to be married to this man next to her if she looked longer.

She was determined to be happy with her husband, if only to prove the sad man with the Sharingan wrong.

**Author's Note:**

> I TRIED ;_;


End file.
